Remember When
by averygirl
Summary: Taylor's remembrances ... REPOST.
1. Preface and Chapter 1

**Remember When**

_**Taylor's memoirs**_ … **Re-post!**

* * *

**Preface**

There are two main schools of thought in modern psychology today. One says that your past is not important; it's what you do with your present and future that truly matter. Basically, where you've come from and what you've done is nothing; it's where you're going that matters. The other says that your past shaped you and that you can't sever it from who you are. It dictates who you are. Basically, who you were yesterday is who you'll be today and tomorrow. I tend to believe a bit in both theories. My past, my experiences, my habits, my personality, were shaped from the very beginning and to cut myself off from that is akin to cutting off a vital body part. Alternately though, living in the past only can be very hampering. Boy, do I realize that now. You would think as a noted psychiatrist I would know that very well but I don't always practice what I preach. I don't think most people do… _Physician, heal thyself._

I am going to be honest with you though. For the longest time I didn't like my life. I didn't even really like who I was. I let the pain of the past completely rule my life and I usually blamed all of my problems on one person – _Brooke Logan._ But when things started getting really bad about two years ago, it took me hitting rock bottom to finally begin to see the light in the darkness again. Also, a really great friend pointed out to me that I was spinning my wheels in overdrive but that I was not actually going anywhere at all. I realized he was right. So from then and there, I decided to try to stop blaming Brooke for everything and take control of my own life. It wasn't easy but thanks to that decision, I am in a much better place now. I like where I am in my life right now. I am looking forward, but always acutely aware of what brought me here, to this place – a place of contentedness and peace.

I was finally reunited with my true love eight months ago and as I cup my ever-growing belly, his child growing bigger inside of me moment by moment, I can't help but think of every choice I have ever made that brought me to the place where I know exactly who I am and where I belong. I want my new baby to know that everything I've done – right or wrong - made me who I am and the mother that I will be to them. I want them to know everything about me, the good, the bad, and the ugly, so they will know how hard I fought to bring them into this world, to make a good life for them; how hard I will always fight to be there for them, their siblings, their father and their niece and nephew. I know I haven't always done the right thing but if I am honest about everything, then my child will know … _They will know they mean the world to me._

So let's head a ways into the past. As I said, I do believe the past affects who you are so I suppose I should start from the very beginning. But I promise not to make excuses for the things I did. I will however make apologies to the people I hurt along the way. I will just never dwell so much in the past that it keeps me from embracing my present and my very bright future…

* * *

**Chapter 1**

My parents met at a dance in college. My father would tell me once that upon seeing my mother with her long, dark hair, mysterious hazel eyes and shapely figure; that he knew instantly that he had to have her. It didn't matter that she was there with her longtime boyfriend, a man named Richard. It didn't matter that she adored Richard very much; he was going to have her, come hell or high water. Jack Hamilton was always quite determined when he chose to be.

At the dance that night, he waited until Richard went to use the men's room and then made his move. He slipped over to Sharon and introduced himself. Mom would later say that he was as smooth as Robert Moore's James Bond and twice as attractive. He charmed her instantly and then evaporated into the crowd when he spotted Richard returning, a promise to see her again lingering in the air. Soon enough, they did see each other again and Jack charmed Sharon right into his bed. She dumped Richard and she and Jack ran off together, finding one adventure after another. I was born two years after they were married and Mom would admit that much of Dad's passion for her had dulled by then. But she was determined to hang onto Jack at all costs because he was all she had in the world (not counting me or my brother, she would always hurriedly add).

I grew up knowing that Mom would do anything to hold onto Dad - even when his eyes wandered to many other women. Even when on several occasions he admitted to having affairs, she would stick by him. He would always be tearful and deeply apologetic and Mom would forgive him with little more than the blink of an eye. I am sure it hurt her deep down but she couldn't show it.

It's a sad truth that we turn into our parents sometimes no matter how much we don't want to. I saw Sharon forgive every one of Jack's transgressions with a forced smile until the day she died; and I learned to do just the same. When people, especially lovers, treated me like a rug to tread their feet on, I just followed my mom's example. I would outwardly accept it – you know, grin and bear it - because I knew that was what was expected of me. And I always tried to do what people wanted me to because I craved love so much. Not to say that my parents didn't love me but they were so often busy dealing with their little soap opera life that my brother Zach and I were forgotten. We never went without clothes, food, or shelter, but we sometimes went without guidance; the only thing to live by the sound of our mother's pleas for her husband to love her echoing in the air all around us.

That's all I knew of love for the longest time. That you had to sacrifice every value you had, every belief, every bit of your integrity, to keep it. For years I would not only follow but actually live that sad philosophy passed down from my mother. I would do anything to hold onto a man who truly never knew what love was, and certainly not how to give it to me of all people. That man was Ridge of course. I made a sad spectacle of myself out of my desperation to hold onto him, even when he left me time and again. I just couldn't let go of him for the longest time. Decades and decades would pass before I finally realized what true love was really all about.

But before Ridge, of course, there was Blake. Blake Hayes, my first husband. He was another mistake in a long line of them. He would treat me like garbage for years before I finally got the courage to walk out. He abused me in every way a person can be abused and I took it until it broke me. Finally leaving him would be a very proud and triumphant moment in my life but as I said, I quickly moved onto Ridge and he abused me too – though not with his fists, but with his words, his actions, his abandonment. And I would take it as I always had and I would suffer greatly whenever he would walk out on me. But my children, well that's the saddest part of all. They would suffer even more. I had always promised myself I would love them so much that they would never have to feel hurt or abandoned the way I did. But I hurt them too by clinging to Ridge so tightly until once and for all; he walked out on all of us.

_**TBC!**_


	2. Chapter 2 and 3

**Chapter 2**

You know looking back I realize what Ridge and I had was never true love, not even close. For literally decades, I tried to convince myself that it was a deep, abiding love; that if we could just get our timing right, that everything would work out for us but it didn't because Ridge could never love me the way I did him. And at some point I think I fell out of love with him but I also felt that I couldn't stand to lose him. I became someone I never wanted to be in my vain pursuits to hang onto him. I wish I had figured this all out much sooner; it would have saved a lot of people a lot of heartache. Mostly my children.

I love my kids so much that in the past I would make excuses for their behavior, for the things they did in the "name of love". Probably because I wanted to make excuses for the errors I made in trying to hold onto Ridge. I feel like I forced my twisted ideals on my own kids and I pray they will one day heal from that though they are making a great effort now. Steffy finally ended her rollercoaster ride of a relationship with Liam Spencer a year ago. She had seen me be second choice for years to her father, had seen me do anything to cling to him, to make him stay, that she had accepted that she was always going to have to fight for a man's love. I apologize to Steffy here for encouraging her to keep pursuing Liam at all costs, so much so, that like me, she sacrificed true happiness and peace for much too long.

I won't tell Steffy's story for you because it's her private business but I will tell you that she is currently seeing a wonderful man named Colin who treats her like a princess. Whenever she even says his name, she lights up the room with her smile. Her twins Stefan and Erin (my sweet little grandbabies!) love Colin as much as he loves them. The best part is that Steffy and Colin are not rushing into marriage but instead are taking things one day at a time, learning everything they can about each other slowly but surely.

My son Thomas, my firstborn, meanwhile is married now. She's a feisty but also sweet young woman named Madison. He is also running Forrester Creations alongside Rick and they don't hate each other nearly so much anymore (thank god!). He is doing a great job of keeping our family's company afloat in hard economic times. I want to apologize here too him as well for letting him believe him that he was perfect, when no one is. He's a great man but I believe he had to take many hard hits because of the fact that I always let him do anything he pleased and told him that ruthlessness would get him what he deserved – not to be second to the Logan kids. Once again, I forced my ideals on my children and can only hope this new one growing inside of me isn't affected similarly.

And last but never least, there's Phoebe, my angel in heaven. I do believe she is watching over all of us and I hope she is proud of what she sees. I miss her every day of my life and hope that she is free from all pain and heartache where she is. Her death remains the single most heartbreaking event that ever occurred in my life or the lives of my loved ones. I feel I failed her most of all because she's gone and I didn't get to say I loved her one last time.

There are days I can hardly function thinking of how much I miss Phoebe. There are nights where I dream of nothing but her. I dream she's happy and free and she's marrying some wonderful man and having a bevy of children who adore her. I dream she lives to a ripe old age, healthy and well. Most of all, I dream that she's alive like she should be…

I wonder if Phoebe's proud of me and the decisions I have made of late. I can only pray she is but my heart will forever ache for my daughter. I sometimes feel like I am forgetting the sound of her voice and the way she used to look; forgetting just how truly blue her eyes were (pictures don't do them justice!). My husband says she would never begrudge me happiness and I think he's right. I just wish she was here. Her death … Well I never really dealt with it the way I should have. There would be months at a time I didn't even utter her name because it hurt too much to hear it. But the truth is I never stop thinking of her and appreciating that she was in my life for as long as she was. She touched my heart and I will love her forever and hope that one day I will see her again…

* * *

**Chapter 3**

As I mentioned earlier, my life started to really fall apart about two years ago. I felt the whole world had turned against me. Ridge was gone. Thorne was gone. I was blurring the lines of friendship with my father-in-law even though I felt no attraction to Eric; even though I only had ever looked at him as a paternal figure. I was fighting tooth and nail with Brooke every chance we got. I was missing the heck out of my Phoebe. I was pushing my ideals on my remaining children to make myself feel better. I was for all intents and purposes, coming apart at the seams, but I didn't know it at first. Or at least, I wouldn't acknowledge it until the night everything started to really cave in on me.

Brooke and I had gotten into another fight. Probably the most vicious one we'd ever had. I don't even remember how it all started but she ended up slapping me. I took it standing up but I was furious inside. I tried to keep my cool but she could not resist telling me that I would never get over the fact that Ridge had chosen her over me. I hated that she was right then, even if I couldn't admit it. I yelled back at her, saying basically what a shameless, pathological tart she was. For the grand finale, she snatched a bottle of vodka from the wet bar and poured it all over me. I was drenched from head to toe. She was gloating and I just turned and walked out. You would think I would head home and wash the stink of booze right off me, but that wasn't me back then. No I was too upset and the smell of the alcohol was giving me that old familiar craving. I wanted a drink. I wanted to forget. I wanted to self-destruct in grand old style.

I drove to a seedy bar I used to frequent years before. I had discovered it after Ridge divorced me for the last time. The place was called The Pit. Appropriate name. The owner Sal remembered me very well and was friendly and ingratiating until he smelled the alcohol on me. He then asked me if I wanted some free advice. I said "sure" though I didn't. I just wanted to drown myself in the bottom of a liquor bottle. He said three words I'll never forget: _"__You really stink."_ And then he told me about an AA meeting in a church up the street that was currently in progress. He advised me to go, and said I was far better than this. How he knew that, I don't know. He refused to serve me and so I traipsed up the street to the meeting just because I felt I had no other choice.

People all turned and stared as I entered and took a seat at the back of the room. Some wrinkled their noses at the way I smelled. Most just looked curious. Very few looked immediately welcoming.

A man who introduced himself to all of us as Marvin stood at the front of the room, tearfully talking about how alcohol had shattered his life, his marriage, his kids and ultimately his soul. I could definitely relate and even empathize. He spoke for a long time and then finally sat down. The room fell into expectant silence and then a debonair-looking black man in a three-piece, pin-striped suit took charge of the room. He thanked Marvin for this words and then his eyes seemed to zero in on me as he asked if there was anyone else who would like to say a few words. He seemed to be speaking directly to me so I raised a hand and walked up to the podium. I remember exactly what I said in vivid detail.

"I'm Taylor… And I'm an alcoholic… It's painful to say those words out loud for many reasons – the feelings are just overwhelming … the shame, the embarrassment, the fear of how people will react. I worry about that all the time. But it's what I am. I shouldn't deny it or act like I'm 'cured' because truthfully, I have been struggling with this disease for a lot of years now. Even when I am wrapped up in other things, even when I think I'm okay, I still want a drink. I don't tell anyone I do though - even you know, when things are really getting rough. And they are getting that way right now… You can all no doubt smell the alcohol on me. Its smells like I bathed in it, doesn't it? I actually haven't drunk a drop of booze tonight but I want to. So badly. It's a long story but I lost more than a few people I loved in the last few years and tonight, I think I may even have lost my mind… It's not a pretty picture you're all seeing. I want to stop needing a drink because I know firsthand the damage it can do to not only yourself but the people you surround yourself with… I never want there to be a day again where I disappoint or hurt someone I love because of this disease. But I am not sure if I can stop myself from reaching for a glass of bourbon the next time things get tough. I am standing here in an AA meeting and yet I am wishing I was down the street at The Pit again instead… I know we should take it one day at a time but sometimes it seems things just don't get easier. I have a hard time being optimistic about anything anymore."

It was true. I was utterly destroyed that night.

After the meeting, I was in tears but getting ready to leave when the black man who had commanded the room so seemingly effortlessly before walked over to me. He introduced himself as simply Raymond and said I should keep coming to AA meetings but that he ran a few groups closer to my "neck of the woods".

"My neck of the woods?" I asked. "How do you know I'm not from around here?"

"We're in a lousy neighborhood and I believe the expensive handbag you're carrying is couture. My ex-wife had one just like it and I know it didn't come cheap. Your threads – though smelly, I'll admit – are a lot different than what most everyone else are wearing around these parts."

I couldn't help but gesture to his own clothing. "Your 'threads' are not exactly from the Tee-Shirt Barn either."

He nodded. "Yes that's true. I've been lucky. I have a good job. But I still like to be involved in a cause like this one."

I felt snarky so I asked him, "Oh you mean, you're doing your good deed for the day?"

"Well there's that but mostly I know what everyone here is going through. I am an alcoholic too."

That shocked me for some reason but from that night forward, Raymond became a very wonderful friend to me. He helped me see the way I was banging my head needlessly against a wall and eventually he would help me realize my destiny.

_Destiny._ I used to openly scoff when Brooke used that word to explain some of her actions that I found offensive. But destiny is real. I just finally learned that we make our own and occasionally if we're lucky, we have a friend like Raymond who guides us towards it with a stern voice and yet a gentle, steady hand…


	3. Chapter 4

I am almost done with this. I hope you like this chapter as sad as it is!

**Chapter 4**

"Don't look now but he's watching us again," Raymond said one morning as we sat in Dayzee's cafe. It had become a ritual for us to meet every Thursday at eight a.m. for a quick breakfast. Breakfast being raspberry muffins and coffee. I always had roasted hazelnut and he always took his black with no cream or sugar. I liked to tease him that the lack of sweetness in his diet was what made him so stern but he would just shake his head at me and try to suppress a smile.

"Or should I say - he's watching you," Raymond went on. I remember sighing and assuring the man who had quickly become my best friend that he had to be hallucinating even as I felt the heated gaze of my ex on me. Rick Forrester, I assured Raymond, had no interest in me and I certainly had no interest in him. I had walked away from Rick - from us really - when I had chosen that pipe dream called Ridge once again.

"If he's watching us, its because he can't figure out who you are. It's morbid curiosity," I insisted.

Raymond shook his head adamantly. "That's not curiosity. Its possessiveness. 'Who is that man and what is he doing with my woman'?"

I laughed and told Raymond how absurd he sounded. And he did. He had never been anything but level-headed and here he was trying to fill my mind with such romantic notions. He had always said he didn't have the time or the energy for love and that after his marriage ended, he would never be interested in that feeling again. But I think somehow he knew - he knew I was lonely for the companionship of a lover; knew that I wanted to feel two strong arms around me, holding me tight. However, then I was just barely admitting that fact to myself. Denial really isn't just a river in Egypt.

Raymond shrugged. "Don't be surprised if he tries to stake his claim very soon." I laughed again but the giggle sounded high and a bit unnatural to my own ears. There was a large part of me that hoped that one day a man would look at me like a woman again - not just as a friend or a companion or a mother, but as someone he could desire. I just refused to believe Rick Forrester would ever be that man again. I had caused him a lot of pain when I left him. Also, my children couldn't stand the sight of him. I would never betray them for anyone - especially an unapologetic career-climber and megalomaniac who had made it his mission for years to make all of us miserable.

Raymond dropped the subject fortunately and we enjoyed the rest of our breakfast chatting about everything under the sun (but Rick) as only true friends can do. When it came time to leave, I insisted on picking up the tab. He never had let me before (he was such a gentleman) but today I was insistent and he knew I could be as stubborn as him when I chose to be. He finally relented and I went up to the counter to pay.

I waited on line for my turn at the counter. There was only one barista that day and the place was packed. Just then Rick came to stand beside me. He didn't say anything at first and I felt him looking me over like I was the tastiest treat on the menu. I was about to ask him what he was trying to pull when he leaned close and whispered to me, "I didn't think guys like him were your type." I knew he meant Raymond and I was incensed. Was he really standing there making a racist insinuation? He must have read my mind because he quickly added, "By that I mean, he's not a Forrester. You always have liked Forrester men. Particularly Ridge." I sensed a little - or a lot - of bitterness in that statement but tried to ignore it.

"I am over Ridge," I said. "Not that it's any of your business." The line moved forward, I quickly paid the barista and hurried away. I didn't even offer Rick a "goodbye".

I walked back over to Raymond. He was smiling at me and I could see that he so badly wanted to tell me "I told you so". But he didn't.

Bless that man.

XoXoXo

From that day on, Rick began to pop up all the time, seemingly wherever I happened to be. At first I bristled at his attentions and then slowly it began to feel a bit flattering in nature. Even as I wondered what his intentions and motivations for his actions were. He complimented me often too - telling me how beautiful I looked in this or that outfit. I figured that he was working an angle. I had no reason to believe otherwise.

One day I came to Forrester Creations to see my children and found them sequestered in Steffy's office with none other than Rick himself. He grinned at me and I found myself blushing. He was getting under my skin - I don't know why or when it had started exactly, but he was - even as I knew I should steer clear of him the way one would a copperhead snake. I immediately asked Thomas and Steffy what was going on, why they both looked so pensive while Rick was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I assumed it was business related but Thomas surprised me by saying that Rick had just informed them of his intentions to pursue me again. My mouth must have dropped open because Rick was smiling even wider. "Don't look so shocked, Taylor," he said. "You have known all along what I want." I blushed as he walked by me and brazenly grazed my arm with his warm hand before leaving the office. What a pompous jerk!

I quickly tried to assure my children that I had no interest in Rick, romantically or otherwise but they both looked skeptical. They did warn me that nothing good could come from aligning myself with Rick once again. I told them I had no intention of ever getting re-involved with Rick. But I know I didn't sound too convincing - not even to my own ears.

XoXoXo

As Rick began pursuing me in earnest, I really began to panic because I realized I was still hopelessly attracted to the man-child. One night he caught me unaware at my doorstep and would have likely kissed me if I hadn't forcibly shoved him away. That night I called Raymond in a true frenzy and asked him for advice. He only told me to listen to my instincts.

The next morning we were to meet for our usual Thursday breakfast "date". I was there a bit early, grabbing our same table in the corner. I waited a good hour before I realized Raymond wasn't coming. I tried not to panic even though I knew he was always on time, like clockwork. When the hands on the clock jumped to nine a.m., I called his office. His secretary Janice answered and I could tell that she had been crying. I immediately knew something was truly wrong.

"Janice," I said. "It's Taylor Hamilton. Raymond was supposed to meet up with me for our weekly morning get-together but he hasn't shown... What's going on? Do you know where he is?"

I will never forget her words or the impact they had on me as long as I lived. "Ms. Hamilton, I'm afraid he's gone. He's - he's dead."

I felt like the wind had been knocked clean out of me. I struggled to breathe. I struggled not to fall apart right then even as tears burned my eyes. "Ohmigod! What happened?"

"He was killed by a drunk driver last night."

"No... NO!" I practically screamed. "I just talked to him last night. When did it happen?"

"Sometime around ten p.m. I guess he went out to the corner market to buy some groceries and he never came back. That's what the police told me anyway. It was supposedly instantaneous."

"A drunk driver," I whispered. _Oh the irony. Oh the heartache..._


End file.
